The Return to Moondoor
by Samlicker91
Summary: Sam, Dean and Castiel take part in the biannual Battle of the Kingdoms, where Charlie still reigns supreme. Rated T for future chapters. Eventually Destiel & Crowley/EVERYONE.
1. Chapter 1

"Holy mother of- Sammy! Hey, Sam! Come here for a second, wouldya?" Dean shouted in a mix of enthusiasm and disbelief.

"What, a new case?" Sam said, and lazily came out of the bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth. He was shirtless, wearing only a white towel. Dean looked at him and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Put some clothes on, for baby Jesus's sake, man. Consider this room family friendly, rated E for Everyone zone."

Sam groaned and put on a shirt lying on the back of the sofa. He started eyeing the room for his trousers. Castiel was sitting casually in the back corner on a recliner, watching Reality TV with uttermost fascination.

"So what's up?" Sam said after he had gathered his clothes.

"Well, where were we two years ago?" Dean said with a big grin.

"I dunno? Hunting?"

"Well, yes, but what case were we on?" Dean could barely hold himself together. He was clearly dying to turn the laptop towards Sam.

"Cut the show, Dean, and tell me what's up," Sam said and smiled. It was good to see his brother so excited about something even if it wasn't yet clear what it was.

Dean, with a grand gesture, turned the laptop, showing Sam the reason for his excitement.

"No way," Sam said not knowing wheter to laugh or cry. He snapped his eyes from the screen to Dean, from Dean to the screen. "You're not serious. You want to go?"

"Yeah I wanna go!" Dean said and was rocking himself up and down, barely refraining from jumping and giggling girlishly.

"The biannual Moondoor Battle of the Kingdoms?" read Castiel who had creeped behind them to see what the commotion was. "Does biannual mean once in two years or twice a year?"

"Who cares, it starts tomorrow, and we're only a couple of hours away from the place," Dean said and slapped the laptop shut.

"They really should use proper terminology," Castiel pondered. "Semiannual and biennial. Biannual is frustratingly open-ended."

Dean was racing the room back and forth, smiling from ear to ear. He had missed Charlie for the past two years, and hey, fighting goblins or orks or whatever in a make-believe world _was _actually pretty fun. Whacking nerds was in his mind kind of therapeutic.

"This time we'll do it right," Dean said and pointed at Sam. "You gotta commit to this. Who will you be?"

"What, you're serious? You want me to pretend to be a wizard or... or... a paladin or something?" Sam looked Dean like he was a prancing pony.

"More or less," Dean said. "Who'll you be?"

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair; he wasn't prepared for something like this.

"Alright, uh... I'll be..." He put his thumb and index finger around his chin and looked like a proper thinker. "I'll be Samwais the... Samwise the, uhm, the..."

Dean rotated his hand, gesturing Sam to hurry up, but he could not; nothing suitable came to mind. Dean sighed.

"Okay, Samwise the Undecisive," he turned his back to Sam and Castiel. "Think of it later. Castiel, you have a cool name already for this kinda thing, so-"

"I'm curious however," Castiel interrupted. "What is this Moondoor? And why is there a scheduled battle where you wear a disguise?"

"It's called LARPing, and it's for nerds," Dean said. "You make up a new personality and pretend you're in the middle ages. Then you have a battle and a feast, and then you tap into some handmaidens." He winked slyly. Sam let out a soft chuckle of both uncontrolled laughter and undeniable scepticism.

"Why would anyone do that? In the middle ages the real battle was not being killed by disease and parasites," Castiel said with a frown. "And don't get me started on the inquisition and the witch burnings. That's... Not faith's proudest moment."

"Because once upon a time nerds much wiser than us put their geeky little eyeglass frames together and figured out a socially semi-acceptable excuse for sweet, equally geeky ladies to wear a corset," Dean explained with adequate hand gestures to exemplefy his point about the girls.

"If that is the case, then I wish to change my identity as well," Castiel said with a faint trace of enthusiasm in his voice.

"But your name is already adequate," Dean protested.

"Oh, what do you know of the middle ages? You weren't there," Castiel said. "Okay, I have chosen upon me the name of... Ralf."

"Ralf? Seriously? You can be anything you want, and you want to be Ralf? Cass, that's way worse than Castiel!"

"Regardless, Ralf was one of the most common names in the late 13th century, only being topped by Gilbert and Geoffrey, and I can't _obviously _be a G-word."

"Obviously?" Sam asked. "Cass, are you so homophobic you can't even take a fake name which starts with a G?"

"Homophobic? Why? I was thinking of God, of course."

"OH!" Sam said, slapping his forehead. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me. I thought you don't want to be thought as gay, the other G-word."

"Why wouldn't I want to be merry?" Castiel said and tilted his head. "This whole business is getting confusing."

Dean chimed in.

"Just... Don't be Ralf, okay? Chicks don't dig Ralfs."

"Fine," admitted Castiel, "but I won't be Castiel, either. Okay, I have decided upon a new name."

"So have I!" said Dean, and cleared his throat.

They both waited a second for the other one to say their name first, and (mis)took the silence as their cue and blurted at the same time:

"Destiel."

A silence fell between them. Dean and Castiel slowly turned their heads to one another, hardly believeing what they heard. The silence was broken by Sam's giggle. Castiel smiled at the obviously upset Dean and said:

"We can be Destiel together."


	2. Chapter 2: Arrival

"_So set forth the valiant heroes to Moondoor;_

_a kingdom forged in flame,_

_where not the eldritch, young, rich nor the poor,_

_could deny their fame._

_First one was Samwise the Undecisive,_

_not the cleverest lad._

_His brain might not be active,_

_but he's got a pimpin' hat._

_Second came Destiel the Courageous,_

_a knight second to none._

_Once he said a thing most outrageous:_

_'I'm a hero just for fun.'_

_Third of them was Casmer the Minstrel,_

_you hear me here sing._

_My rhymes are packed with crystal,_

_and happiness it will bring!"_

"Cass... Where did you get that lute?" asked Dean with a frown. Castiel had been making these _horrifying _rhymes for the entire drive.

"And why am I the idiot in this story?" sulked Sammy on the front seat. He crossed his arms and lift his other foot on the dashboard; he was proper upset, he didn't want to be considered a buffoon!

"C'mon, Sammy!" Dean said and slapped Sam on the thigh, smiling. "At least he noticed your hat!"

"I guess you're right," Sammy mumbled and took his new hat to his hands. It was a purple and very large hat with an equally large feather on it. Sam loved the hat, it made him feel safe and cool.

They were all already in a costume:

Samwise the Undecisive was wearing his new trusty hat and a hooded cloak colored deep purple. Under the cloak he had a white shirt woven of linen, with decorative patterns on the sleeves and the collar. His pants were black leather, with a golden phoenix pictured on the left leg. He also sported a cane with a small jewel on the head.

Destiel, a knight for hire, wore a mixture of plate and chain mail armor. It was so broad and heavy it made it hard to drive, but damnit, no one else touches his baby but him! The contraption was slapped on him with leather straps, and the straps had very decorative buckles, pictured with gryphons.

Casmer's outfit was simple enough: Castiel had been very clear on what he wanted to wear, for as he put it, if they're going to roleplay, better do it properly from the get-go. He insisted on wearing a tainted woollen tunic, and a matching pair of pants, with moderately bright colors. He went overcomplicated with the outfit, of course, and was worried of things like soil type consistency and where in the world is a lawless traveling minstrel going to find a leather belt like the one he first had. Now it was replaced with a simple cut of rope, and Casmer seemed content.

They pulled in near the national park, the place of the battle, but not very many cars could be seen in the parking lot. There were 7 cars, excluding the impala, and that worried Dean a little bit.

"Where's all the people? Why aren't there more cars?"

"Dean, this ain't a rock festival. Nerds travel by bus," Sam reminded, and Dean's worries dissolved.

"Right," he said, and left the car. The banged the roof two times and told the two to hurry up.

They were approached by two costumed boys in their early-twenties. They both had spears in their hands, and the shorter one had a tiny comically sized basket with him. It was a sunny day, and they seemed tired and sweaty.

"Halt, citizen! Before we can let you partake in this event, you must commend to us a caregiving fee of 2 silver," the taller one said.

"He means 2 bucks for parking," the shorter one said, clearly bored, and shoved the basket forward. Inside the basket, there were a couple of dollars. Dean reached for his wallet; two bucks was a little too low to start a fuzz about.

"Not many visitors by car I presume?" he said and gave the boys their money.

"No, and it's hot as hell in these costumes. My underwear is constantly climbing up to my crotch," the shorter one said and wiped a couple of sweat-marbles from his forehead. Sam and Dean looked at him blankly, and just nodded solemnly. Castiel on the other hand seemed fascinated.

"Are your underwear historically accurate?" he asked. "I could imagine sweaty linen being a problem. I might have to face the same ordeal!" He seemed happy and even excited of his coming rash.

"No... They're cotton... But the discomfort _is _historically accurate," the boy answered, and before they could carry on the conversation Dean and Sam pulled Castiel away.

They walked a path along the trees until they started hearing music. Castiel critized the music for introducing rather modern musical elements. Dean was practically skipping, and when they saw the gates of the Kingdom, he squeeled and sprinted forward, even in his heavy costume.

"C'mon, guys! This way!"

Sam sighed, and Castiel continued his critique of the music. They proceeded through the gates and were greeted by tents and people and music and shops and food... This year's participation seemed a lot bigger than the one two years ago. Dean's eyes glistened with tears as he turned his head back and forth between the shops and the costumes and the swordfights. He was having a very hard time containing himself and not running into every possible direction at once.

"Okay, what should we do?" Sam said and looked around.

"We, Samwise, should see the queen," said Dean, correcting his posture and super-maintaining his remaining coolness. He was trying his best to stay in character. "There might be a job for heroes like us! Well..." he looked at both Samwise and Casmer. "Heroes like me."

"Oh yeah, I think Charlie is still the queen, let's go meet here," Sam said, but was stopped by Dean.

"Who is this Charlie you speak of? I only know the Queen, the serenaded and beautiful!"

"C'mon, Dean, I-"

"Dean? My name, Samwise, as you well know, is Destiel!" Dean tried to railroad Sam into roleplaying with him.

"Ugh, _fine, _Destiel. Let us go and seek the queen," he said, defeated. Destiel slapped Samwise on the shoulder very co-operatively, and said:

"Well spoken, my dear lad! Come, Casmer, so you can sing of our grand adventures! This will be GREAT!"


End file.
